#the world shapers

[ven-of-oath]

Guess who qblrsmp special addition to commemorate the serving ending. I am one of the admins Ven, I played

- Evaportation "Eva" 777-Owes-Magician

- The strange nether creature that tormented people for like a month before dying tragically

- The spirit that haunts the school gym

[obsessiveagony2point0]

Lighter options below the cut along with the images that inspired me!

Lighter options

Inspirations

[punemy-spotted]

Idhehdj I'm so nervous making this ask cuz I don't wanna bother you if you've stopped writing for the Sleepover in the Valley event- but if you are still writing for it; what would Zemo's role in the Valley be? Love your writing so much and I hope your days are good!!!!!

Friend, you are absolutely not bothering me! I am definitely still writing for the Sleepover, it's still going until my birthday! I'm delighted you've asked about my beloved Helmut, and I'm so excited to talk about him with you!

(Hint: You might have seen him before, in a different story not quite connected to the Valley... except for him!)

Come join the Family for a Sleepover in the Valley!

Helmut Zemo is not of the Green. He is not of the Inner Dark either. Y'might've called him a demon of the crossroads, so long as you ain't talkin' right to his face, but he ain't that either — Helmut Zemo ain't even his real name, but it is the one he likes best.

Thing about this world, burnin' black rock on a backwater planet no-one woulda considered worth anythin' in the years before the planet was born, is that he did. Might've been a disaster, might've been all the fires of Hell convergin' around him, might just've been a nice vacation. Don't matter.

What matters is this: when the things that would've torn apart the edges of this universe t'fill their own bellies were sealed away, Helmut Zemo was there. An' Helmut Zemo, gatekeeper an' guardian, Baron of the Crossroads, keeper of the keys, was called to be warden of this newly built prison, to keep its secrets deep within an' keep away all who would be fool enough to crack open its shell an' release the Pandora's Box sealed inside.

And Helmut Zemo did not answer.

Figure we should all thank him for that.

Figure he'll probably ask.

[xxnikox]

Worlds.com - Shaper (1995)

I decided to add textures to my world and I think it looks wayyyyyy better than with only solid colours!

One problem is that the frame rate drops like crazy for some reason! The documentation for shaper says that you need to optimize your world by preventing overdrawing, which I need to look into.

[ripegreenfruit]

Eyes stars or wet no in between

[chadwickginther]

2024 Mid-year Check In

For those readers who might be new around here, every year I make some writing related goals to try and keep my creative year on track. I also check in at the midpoint to see how things are going. So … that said, here were my goals for 2024: Revise and submit my WIP novella. Continue submitting my short fiction. Submit at least four new stories. Right now the plan is for these stories to…

[voidsoulfishing]

I bait my hook with a community of worldbuilders. Who comes for the hook? Why? How large is this demographic? What is their primary trade?

Group Name: The Ancient Gardners Group Goals: To carefully cultivate world and realities, growing the most beautiful garden in the multiverse Number of Members: 7 Why did the Bait work? Inspired by the community, the Gardeners gathered together to speak to like minded individuals, to share their inspiration and to gain inspiration from others. Important Members ~Apollo Dunn: The primary Gardener, Apollo rules over the stars of the Garden, providing the most basic building blocks the other Gardener's use to build their own creations. ~Artemis Dunn: Twin sister to Apollo, Artemis was placed in charge of creating the planets and moons of the Garden. Each planet providing a new template for the other Gardeners to decorate. ~Marsh Temper: As the best with fluid dynamics, Marsh rules over both the waters of the Garden and the molten cores. He ensures the worlds are covered in oceans and possess magnetic fields. ~Aran Igarashi: Ruling over the weather of the Garden, Aran shapes storms and winds of the worlds created in the Garden. They love reshaping the Gas Giants of the Garden, causing them to swirl and dance. ~Mar Anaya: Takinig on the responsibility of all life in the ocean, Mar is the one that begins life in the Garden. Shaping all that lives within the ocean and deciding what eventually makes the journey to land and to Adams or Alices care. ~Adam Butcher: Adam takes on the responsability to shape all those creatures Mar sends onto him. Allowing them to grow and expand, some taking to the skies and others eventually returning to the seas. Most remain on land and an even smaller number are chosen by Alice. ~Alice Veers: Alice controls the development of Sapient life in the Garden. Chosing what life gains sapience and what way they develop. She adores seeing just what the Garden can produce and will happily show off her work to any who will listen. She encourages her work to achieve some form of space flight, allowing them to intermingle and grow even greater. Backstory: In a world of reality shapers, those that can create realities are rare and often flock together. Each individual having their own skills and talents in creation. That is exactly what brought the Gardeners together, each possessing their own talents in shaping the realities they created. The Gardner's adore their work, creating vast stretches of reality, carefully cultivated and shaped to make the most beautiful displays. Each Garden is carefully sculpted by each of them, all of them working in tandem to create a work of art each time.

[lishens]

ʚɞ ⁺ ˖ ⸝⸝ ꒰⠀ NOT A GENTLEMAN ⠀꒱

Zhongli lets her break away from the embrace, despite how the dragon in him wants to pull her back until she is a part of his very being — until she is a part of his soul that no one will be able to tell where she begins and where he ends.

alternate universe — canon divergence. established relationship. fem!reader is a virgin. slight mean dom!zhongli. bits and pieces of dragon!zhongli. cunnilingus. penetration. marking. possessiveness. dubious consent at some parts. breeding. mating press. praise. dacryphilia.

“Are you going home early?”

The question makes her head turn, looking at Xiangling who is now just opening Wanmin Restaurant for dinner.

“Mhm,” her head nods, giving Guoba a wave from where he is standing before the stove. “I have plans to meet someone—” She can barely finish speaking before Xiangling leans in close to her face, way too close that she is beginning to get cross-eyed.

“Is this your lover? The one you’ve been meeting for months now?!” Her friend exclaims, far too loudly, that they draw amused looks from the passing strangers. Her hands reach to cover Xiangling’s mouth, making shushing noises while willing the flush in her cheeks to go away. Still, she manages to nod. It seems that her shame is enough of a deterrent that her friend only manages to squeal — as quietly as someone like Xiangling can. “Don’t let me keep you here! Go! Shoo! Meet your sweetheart!”

Sweetheart, huh? That seems far too simple for what is going on between herself and Zhongli.

For someone who works at a funeral parlour, he is such a sweet gentleman. Arguably, the standard of what a man should be. Though, she may be a bit biased in that regard, seeing him through rose-coloured lenses and all. The man may be absent minded at times, often forgetting his wallet and all, but he never fails to treat everyone with kindness and respect — even when they are unworthy of it.

Oh, she just loves him.

“Mora for your thoughts?” A question comes from behind her, spine freezing in surprise before it relaxes once she recognises the voice. She turns to wrap her arms around his midsection, giving Zhongli an embrace.

Ah, this is where she belongs, right in his arms.

“My thoughts were just filled with you.”

Unbeknownst to his darling, amber-coloured irises darken to a deep set of honey upon hearing her words. The Geo Archon wraps his arms around the delicate set of shoulders to pull her closer to his embrace, burying his nose to the crown of her head.

The sigh of satisfaction is actually a pleased rumble from the depths of his throat, his inner dragon delighted at the fact that his sweetheart knows where belongs.

With him.

His breath meets the lobe of her ear and draconic pupils immediately narrow in on the dangling earring in his colours. It had been his gift for Qixi, during the courting stage of their relationship. Zhongli wanted something subtle but obvious to those who know where to look. The gemstone is a cor lapis, probably one of the finest ones that he had to bribe Cloud Retainer to bring him; the silk threads that make up the ribbon are from Mountain Shaper’s territory, requested with an exchange of several tea gatherings.

The adepti who walk through the city all look at him with an expression torn between judgement and amusement upon catching sight of the jewellery on his sweetheart, knowing immediately who the gift-giver is.

In order to avoid theft, those that belong to him should be marked as such. It is only the way of things, the way of the world — the way of the gods.

Zhongli lets her break away from the embrace, despite how the dragon in him wants to pull her back until she is a part of his very being — until she is a part of his soul that no one will be able to tell where she begins and where he ends.

He lets her chatter all the way back home, entertaining all the questions she has about the most random of things. 

All the while, his smile is ever-present just for her.

It only falters when she pauses before the corner that separates his home from hers. Zhongli lives on the road just ahead, while she lives right inside the alley. His brows furrow, reaching a gloved hand to cup her cheek. “Are you not feeling well?”

He watches as her eyes widen with a hint of amusement, endeared when she shakes her head furiously.

“I just,” she trails off, biting on her bottom lip in a fit of anxiousness. The plush brim pulled taut by her teeth, and that will not just do. His tongue clicks sharply against the roof of his mouth, reaching with a thumb to press firmly on her chin in a wordless demand to relax. She does, like the obedient little darling that she is, and his hand falls away. “I don’t want to go home just yet.” The words come as a whisper, but to his ears, it sounds as loud as a scream.

Abruptly, his hand darts to hold her by the jaw. Thumb and index finger pressing firmly on the sides to tilt her upwards and force her eyes to meet his darkened ones.

“Darling,” he coos, sounding far too sinister for the gentleman persona he put up for her sake but Zhongli cannot help it. “If you say something like that, then a man might interpret it as you wanting to sleep with him.” He wants her to say yes, to nod, or to even avert her gaze bashfully.

She does none of those things, looking at him instead with pupils blown wide in surprise.

Zhongli has to swallow down the disappointment, replacing it with a charming smile that makes his eyes curl into crescents. A facade to not let her see the swirling darkness underneath. “I jest, my love. You know that all I want is to take good care of you.”

After all, they have been dating for so long, and there will be many more opportunities that will rise in the future.

Laying in his bed, she stares at the wooden panels of the ceiling and barely muffles a sigh. He really did not do anything, not even an “accidental” touch. In fact, Zhongli treated her very politely. Very politely that even someone as inexperienced as her felt very frustrated.

It should be a crime for someone to be that much of a gentleman, she thinks while turning to look at him sleeping soundly beside her.

A moment of impulsiveness makes her reach for his hand, holding it between her shaking fingers. She hesitates, not wanting to do this without his full consent. But— it is not like he will reject her, right? Zhongli loves her, she knows and feels that much. Maybe even too much sometimes, a part of her whispers. Hesitantly, she brings his hand between her thighs and rolls her hips against his palm. It feels weird, but a good kind of weird, one that makes her shiver all over and let out all of these breathless noises with eyes closed to further savour the sensation.

“What are you doing with my hand?” A question echoes in her ear out of nowhere, eyes snapping wide open only to meet his gaze.

Her breath gets caught in her throat, “I thought you were asleep.” It is a weak argument, she knows that much.

“Silly girl, I was awake. How could I sleep when you’re right beside me?” Zhongli smiles, soft and sweet as always, but she feels unnerved. How can he smile so sweetly after what she did? There is an odd look in his eyes, something dark and predatory. It makes her feel like she is prey. He leans in and presses a kiss to her lips, his tongue following soon after in the depths of her mouth.

“I was planning on being kind to you,” he murmurs, lips drifting past her lips and down the line of her jaw until Zhongli grants a particularly harsh suck on the column of her neck. “Take care of you, love you like those leads in the operas you listen to. But no, you just had to test me.” With those words, his palm slips inside the waistband of her underwear to rub her clit in tight circles.

“How can I ever say no to willing prey that is already dripping wet?”

Dexterous fingers grip the fabric of her underwear, giving it a sharp yank until the sound of cloth tearing echoes in the silence of his bedroom. There is heat in his spine, mortal teeth elongating to sharp fangs in his maw at the scent that wafts through the air.

Sweet, and so utterly decadent. The finest meal in all of Teyvat.

“Hush, little dove,” he croons to her collarbone. “It made no sense for you to keep wearing that thing when you are already soaking through it, hm?”

The shame that floods her cheeks, the eyes that widen in surprise at his words, all of it are like pieces of her that Zhongli greedily takes in. Truly, she is the jewel of his hoard. Her protests are cut off by his hands, turning and twisting her figure until she is nearly folded in half. Like this, the pretty sight of her pussy is in full view of his narrowed gaze. “I am going to give this pretty girl a lot of love, okay?” The whisper comes breathless on her stiff nub, tongue darting out to give it a mean flick.

Not even Celestia can take his head away from between her thighs.

The wet muscle traces the outline of her slit, taking great delight at how more of her arousal comes dripping out in response despite her protests. How adorable, as if she was not rutting her cunt on his palm earlier. His eyes dart to peer at her panting figure, her chest heaving with soft sobs that sound like music to his ears.

Her eyes are tightly shut— and that will not just do.

A sharp click of the tongue, talons sinking into the supple flesh of her thigh. Zhongli no longer cares if his adeptal form is in full view. “Look at me,” he growls, the pointed ends of his teeth nibbling on her clit just to see her squirm.

“Look at me.”

Teary-eyed and breathless, her lashes flutter to peer at Zhongli. But what she sees is Rex Lapis instead, the realisation makes her folds spasm around nothing, clenching tight and dripping another thick glob of arousal down the silken sheets.

It should scare her, the knowledge that her lover is the Archon of Liyue, but it only arouses her further.

And Zhongli seems to reach the same conclusion, lips curving to form a wicked grin at her reaction. “Dirty girl,” he coos right to her pussy, draconic tongue darting out to flatten against the entire slit until her thighs shake from the pressure. “You like this.” The accusation falls and she finds herself unable to deny it, not when the god himself can see how much wetter it has made her.

“Y-You’re Rex Lapis,” she states the obvious in a shaky voice, hiccuping with every pass of his tongue on her sensitive flesh. Her hips nearly fly off the bed when the wet muscle slides inside, exploring every crevice of the tight passage, if not for his iron-clad grip on her frame.

The only response she receives is a loud slurp that makes her cheeks burn with shame, and a wicked laugh as the Archon himself rises to his full height. “Stating the obvious now, pretty girl?” Rex Lapis asks, pressing on the underside of her thighs until her legs are nearly flat above her chest. A mating press, she thinks, vaguely remembering the position from one of the spring books she used to giggle over under the bridge. The position is termed as such due to how many adepti seem fond of using it when mating with their soul-hearts, it is said to increase the chances of conceiving — not that fertility is an issue. Adeptal creatures are a hundred times more fertile than regular humans, it only takes one mating dance before their soul-heart conceives after all. Her eyes widen, limbs tensing as if to push Rex Lapis off once she remembers Yanfei’s drunken ramble on the night she met Zhongli for the first time.

Rex Lapis is not Rex Lapis if he is slower than a mortal. In a flash, she finds herself folded in half with an ebony hand holding her by the neck. The threat of his claws seem to pale in comparison to the threat of his snarl.

“You will not deny me.”

With those words, her entire worldview shatters at the brutal plunge his monstrous length makes inside her core. It burns, it hurts — it feels good.

Time feels both too slow and too fast like this, intimately connected to Rex Lapis as she is. Every thrust scrapes her raw, makes her feel every nerve ending come alive. At the same time, it all feels like a blur.

She never thought that her Zhongli can be so mean.

But this is Rex Lapis, the Archon of Geo, the God of Liyue. This is the dragon who rained mountains on the world just to win the Archon Wars. This is the monster who reigns supreme above all other monsters. This is the Prime of the Adepti for a reason.

Distantly, she can hear herself weeping. It pales in comparison to the sound of his delighted exhalations, the whispered praises. “Little love, my sunshine … You take me so good, so warm— s-so tight for me … You are perfect … The only one for me, my one and only.” She comes back to herself slowly, only to feel herself blanking out. The sound of their combined fluids squelching in the air is enough to make her stomach tighten, walls spasming around the thick cock that seems to twitch with every deep press that Rex Lapis makes and stirs her insides.

Lungs desperate for air, she can only whimper when Rex Lapis parts her thighs to gaze at where the two of them are connected with greed in his gaze.

“We have all day, my darling,” he murmurs with a sharp jerk of his hips that makes her squeal. “We have all of today, tomorrow, and the many days after to make sure you are full of me.”

“Only me.”

© lishens ( 2024 ): do not claim, modify, copy or repost my works without permission. minors do not interact.

[vigilskeep]

something i love to think about is what the orzammar caste system does when labelling people gets messier. like okay, you have nobles, warriors, smiths, artisans, minors, merchants, and servants. where in that is a doctor, a surgeon, an apothecary? a keeper of livestock? a butcher, a baker, a brewer, a cook? a fisherman of the underground lakes? a low-level official or civil servant, a tax collector, a scribe? the man who checks your tickets at the door of the proving? the musicians playing in the background? is a poet an artisan? what caste are shapers? are there jobs where the highest and lowest positions in the same room have to be filled by different castes, and what problems does that cause? are there smith-artisan families who marry into each other so they can share skills into similar works? do castes become so varied that many in the same one couldn’t begin to guess how to do each other’s work? when a newly emerging profession is required for the modern world, do castes bicker in front of the assembly over which has the right to fill that role? do people ever thinly veil what they’re actually doing with what their caste should be doing? (“no, ser, i’m merchant caste, of course i don’t make these, i just... refine them before sale. look, i can’t afford what the smith families charge for that when i can do it with my own hands.” “yes, ser, i’m servant caste, but i have to help craft and sell these things when my master is busy, like any servant should.” “ser, this position may require serving our customers, but it has to be held by a member of the artisan caste. who else would have the expertise?”)

[xxnikox]

Worlds.com - Shaper (1995)

Progress is looking good...

The room isn't as laggy anymore which is really good!

I also added an "Under Construction" cube floating in the sky (:

And I also added an infinite background!

[awkwardauthorwrites]

Somebody Else

Word Count: 3k

Themes: fluff. A little flirting but this one can be seen as pureply platonic

Summary: Definitely not inspired as some love to @ask-sebastian who seems to be having a tough time at the moment 

Warnings: Potential spoilers for HL. All characters 18+ and in seventh year. Absolutely not proof-read a million times like I usually do so please be nice.

If anyone is ever struggling, please feel free to message me. I will always respond as soon as I am able to. I never want anyone to feel overwhelmed, alone, anxious, or anything else. I love you, please take care of yourselves

Y/N let out a long breath as she landed back on the Hogwarts grounds. She had been looking absolutely everywhere for Sebastian and still had yet to find him. She had checked the Undercroft, the Restricted section, his dorm room - she had even flown to Feldcroft on the off chance he was there to fix up the old cottage - but he was nowhere to be found. She grumbled slightly to herself as she made her way back to the Slytherin common room, hoping at the very least she could catch him before dinner. Not that he would attend the meal anyway. 

Y/N had been looking around for him for the past few days, but all she caught were fleeting glances in class before he bolted out of the room as fast as possible, looking more and more exhausted each time. It broke her heart to see him so rundown and she was determined to help him. She smiled in passing to Grace, who stopped her with a knowing look and pointed to the corner of the room where the large windows were. Y/N spotted the familiar mop of brown hair and thanked the girl before making her way over to him and slid into the spot next to him on the sofa.

“Hey, you,” Y/N smiled softly. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” Sebastian turns his head fractionally to look at her and offers her a weak smile before looking out the window at the Black Lake again. She manages to catch sight of dark rings under his eyes and his pale face before he turns away from her to watch the fish swim by.

“How can I help?”

“Seb…” She feels her heart sink at his demeanour. “I’m worried about you. You’ve not been yourself lately.” He sighs heavily and leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. 

“What have you heard?”

“I haven’t heard anything.” Y/N shakes her head slowly and moves along the couch just a little bit so that she can lower her voice. “You’re my best friend, Sebastian. I can see that you’re not okay. You look like you haven’t slept in days, and I don’t think I’ve seen you eat a proper meal in that time either. You might have everyone else fooled into thinking you’re okay on the surface but I can see below that.” He mulls over her words for a few moments before looking at her with a half-smile.

“I’m just an open book to you.”

“Sometimes,” she admits with a quiet laugh. “I don’t want to pry, but please, if you need to talk to someone I’m here. I don’t want you to feel alone in whatever you’re going through.” Sebastian gives her a warmer smile, but his eyes still have a haunted look about them.

“Do you want the long version or the short version?”

“I’ll take whichever version you want to give me. I’m here for you, Seb.” Y/N holds her hand out for his, letting him decide if he wants to take it. He looks at it for a beat before quietly lacing his fingers through hers and giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve the world and I won’t let you think otherwise,” Y/N’s tone is a little shaper than she intended, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “You told me once on one of my bad days that it’s not a race to the end. Take your own advice, Sebastian.” He huffs out a quiet, humourless laugh and shakes his head.

“Shame on you for using my own words against me.”

“Shame on you for not using your own perfectly good advice.” Sebastian rolls his eyes at that, before letting out a quiet sigh and leaning back in his seat.

“I think I’m just overwhelmed.”

“With school?”

“With everything.” His eyes slip closed and Y/N allows her mask to drop for a split second, allows all the hurt and pain she feels for the man in front of her to show before she quickly hides it again. “It’s school, it’s Anne, it’s Solomon. It feels like everything is piling up at once.”

“You’re speaking to Anne again?” Y/N asked, trying not to let the surprise show on her face.

“No, not quite. I…I sent her an owl asking how she’s been. Explained how sorry I am for what I did and told her that I missed her. That not a day goes by where I don’t hate myself for my actions in that tomb.”

“What did she say?”

“She misses me too, but it’s still too soon and she doesn’t know if she can forgive me yet.” Y/N doesn’t know how to reply to this without it sounding like she pities him, so instead she squeezes his hand gently again and places her free hand on top. “I don’t think she’ll ever forgive me.”

“I think she will, one day. I don’t want you to think I’m just trying to placate you or give you false hope - I genuinely believe Anne will forgive you. I know I barely had a chance to get to know her, but I saw how much you two love each other. She just needs a little more time.”

“I know,” he sighs and turns his head to look at her. “I just wish I could jump forward until then.”

“Would it be incredibly corny to say if you skipped forward to the best parts you might miss out on all the good things in between?”

“Definitely.”

“Too bad, I said it.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Sebastian laughs again, and Y/N feels her heart leap at the little bit of warmth she can hear in it. “I need you to know how much I appreciate you. Everyone else seems to think I’m fine except for you. You can see straight through me and I can’t quite work out if that’s terrifying or not.”

“Well, I’m biased, but I think it’s pretty great. Besides, you can see straight through my bullshit as well, so it’s only fair I can do the same.”

“That’s true, I guess.” Sebastian squeezes her hand again and turns in his seat to face her. “Thank you for checking on me, it means more than you will ever know.”

“You think I’m done mother henning you?” Y/N clicked her tongue in mock annoyance. “Get up, we’re going to the kitchens to get some food for you.”

“Why does it sound like we’ve fallen into the tough love part of the night?” Sebastian groaned as she tugged at his arm to pull him off the couch. 

“Because we have. All I’ve seen you consume the last three days is coffee and the occasional blueberry muffin.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” he scoffs lightly as they walk out of the common room. “You don’t even drink water most days, all you drink is coffee.”

“Do as I say, not as I do.”

“You’re a hypocrite.” Y/N looked over her shoulder at Sebastian and couldn’t help but laugh at the pout on his face. She resisted the urge to pinch at his cheeks as she continued to lead him towards the kitchens.

“Well, I’ll make sure I drink a nice big glass of water if you eat a full plate of real food.”

“...multiple glasses of water.”

“Deal,” she rolled her eyes at him playfully and came to a stop outside the portrait for the kitchens. With her free hand Y/N tickled the pear, a small smile coming to her face as it softly giggled before swinging open for them both. She pulled Sebastian in after her and waved in greeting to a few of the house elves as she made her way over to a table.

“Miss Y/N!” Posie, a female house elf, darted over with a large smile. “Oh, it is so good to see you again! And you brought a friend!”

“Hi Posie. I’m sorry it’s been so long, I’ve been a little busy.” Sebastian felt his heart swell as Y/N gave the creature a genuine, wide smile and pulled him forward. “This is Sebastian. Could I trouble you for something to eat for him?”

“And you,” Sebastian nudged her gently. If he was going to be subjected to her fussy, caring behaviour then she was going to join him. “It’s nice to meet you, Posie.”

“And you, Mister Sebastian! Posie will go and bring you both some food right now.” The small creature dashed off in search of something to eat and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh softly as she sat down at the table. 

“She likes you.” Y/N turned to look at Sebastian with a curious smile. “Posie, that is. Merlin, is there anyone you don’t have wrapped around your finger?”

“I’m not that special,” she laughed quietly. “I can think of a few people who definitely have it out for me.”

“Point them out to me and I’ll put them back in line.”

“I can do that myself, but thanks for the offer.” She laughs quietly and turns to smile at Posie as two plates alleviate in their direction, as well as a jug of water. 

“Can Posie get anything else for you?”

“No, thank you Posie. This looks wonderful.” The house elf beams at Y/N’s words and lets them know to call her over if they need anything else before disappearing to help prep for dinner. Y/N gave Sebastian a pointed look as she poured them both, silently conveying she would not be taking a sip until he took a bite of his food. He sighed at her, but the corner of his mouth was slightly upturned as he took a large bite out of the chicken on his plate. She nodded in satisfaction and drank from her glass until it was finished and then refilled it. “You know, it’s a shame you haven’t been around, you missed my hair going through every colour of the rainbow for a few days.”

“You what?” Sebastian coughed slightly and looked up at her, eyes wide in surprise. “Why did you do that?”

“I didn’t! Not on purpose at least.” She laughed and began to pick at her own plate of food. “Garreth has been working on a fire-breathing potion that doesn’t hurt the user or burns things around it. I offered to test it for him and roughly every hour my hair would shift into the next colour on the spectrum.” Sebastian had no words for this, but he was quite clearly trying to hold back his laughter. “Personally I think I looked absolutely stunning with Slytherin green hair.”

“You’re absolutely stunning regardless.” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could process them and he offered Y/N a sheepish smile. She rolled her eyes at his words, but there was a pleased smile on her face. 

“You’re not so bad yourself, Sallow.” She nudged his foot with hers gently and gave him a small wink as they finished their meals in a comfortable silence. Y/N watched as some colour began to return to his cheeks, and even though he looked absolutely exhausted, he began to sit a little straighter as his body started to digest the much needed meal. They took some blueberry muffins with them as they left (with Posie making them both promise to come back soon) and even though he wasn’t quite back to his usual self Y/N could see the change in him from such a simple act of self-care. “When was the last time you slept?”

“Are you telling me I look tired? Way to make a man feel good about himself, Y/L/N.”

“Oh hush,” Y/N flicked his arm. “Stop deflecting and tell me.”

“I slept last night.”

“Enough?”

“Define ‘enough’.”

“I’m going to take that as a no.” She narrowed her eyes at him and began to lead him back to the Slytherin Common Room. “Are you going to blush and stutter and protest if I put you to bed?”

“Blush and stutter? No. Protest? Absolutely. I’m not five years old.”

“Well, stop acting like it and start taking care of yourself.”

“When did you swap from mother hen to this tough love act?”

“When you started to sulk and pout.”

“I am not!” he protested. Y/N raised an eyebrow at him, an amused smile on her face as he groaned in defeat. “I can’t stand you some days.”

“I love you, too, Seb,” she laughed as they walked into the Slytherin common room, not breaking her stride as she led him up to the boys dorm, not caring that a few people watched with wide eyes and probably assumed the worst. “Am I staying with you to chat and relax or would you rather just sleep?”

“Stay with me, please. At least until I sleep.”

“Okay,” she nodded once and sat on his bed, shoo’ing him towards the bathroom. “Take a shower while you’re in there, I’ll be waiting here.”

“Are you trying to tell me I smell?”

“It’s cute that you think I’m going to dignify that with a response considering your cologne smells amazing and you know it.” Y/N raised an eyebrow at him and all but pushed him towards the bathroom and shut the door behind him. She could hear him laugh from the other side before the door creaked open and he slipped back out.

“Before you reprimand me, I need clothes. I can’t very well come out in just a towel, can I?” he teased, watching as she flushed. She threw one of his pillows at him as he rummaged through his wardrobe for something comfortable and narrowly avoided it as he tossed it back, along with a large shirt. “My cosiest shirt if you want to get comfortable too.” He gave her a soft smile and retreated back to the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him. Y/N couldn’t help but smile as she toyed with the soft fabric before getting changed as quickly as she could, unsure of how long he would be in the shower for. The shirt fell down to her thighs, so she shed her skirt as well with a quiet sigh and got herself settled underneath the blankets and waited patiently for Sebastian.

She leant over to grab one of the many books that were laying on the floor by his bed, but instead she caught sight of the picture frames he had on the table. One was of an older couple and Y/N could only assume they were his parents. They seemed to be chasing two toddlers around a garden before scooping them up and smiling for a family picture. The next was a drawing of Sebastian, Anne and Ominis that only looked to be a few years old and Y/N recognised Feldcroft in the background. 

The final picture brought a small flush to her cheeks and she carefully picked it up for a closer look. It was a drawing of her and Sebastian from last year - she would recognise that coastal background anywhere. A large group of them had made their way to the beach for the day when the weather was good, and Garreth had been doodling in his ever-present notebook with a sly smile. Y/N had asked him what he was doing, but he simply waved her off and muttered something about potions and equations. She knew he had been lying to her (especially when Poppy leaned over to have a look and began to giggle) but had brushed it off and turned back to her conversation with Sebastian, but what she didn’t expect was for him to be sketching a picture of the pair of them as they smiled at each other. She definitely didn’t think Sebastian would be in possession of said sketch, or that he would keep it by his bedside.

“Was that your grand plan, then?” Sebastian asked teasingly as he walked out of the bathroom, rubbing at his hair with a towel. “Send me to the bathroom so you could snoop?” He draped the towel over a chair and walked over to see what she was looking at. “Oh, Weasley gave me that a little while back, said he meant to give it to us after the beach but forgot.”

“And you decided to keep it on your bedside?”

“Of course. I don’t know if you noticed but only the most important people go there, and I didn’t have a picture with you before.” Sebastian said the words as if they were the most normal thing in the world while he climbed in next to her and lay down. “Do we get to cuddle too?”

“Do you want to?”

“Do I want - what kind of question is that, of course I want to cuddle,” Sebastian rolled his eyes at her playfully and tugged her over, his hand slipping over her waist. Y/N huffed out a laugh and placed an arm around his torso, her fingers trailing up and down his back soothingly. She felt his whole body relax against hers as he let out a content noise. “If you keep doing that I’ll be asleep in no time.”

“Good. You need it,” Y/N replied quietly. She ran her fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp before running back down his back again. 

“No, I need to thank you first.”

“You absolutely do not, but if you really want to, you can wait until morning.”

“Will you stay with me?”

“Always.”

[dragonzzilla]

The whole "A male is only born to the Gerudo once in a hundred years" presents a fascinating psychological crucible

By accident of birth, you're othered from the rest of your people. There is literally no one else like you. No one alive at least. You are born in the shape and in the shadow of long dead monarchs, Great Men.

But what does it mean to be a man in a society that is otherwise comprised entirely of women (I do not believe in gender essentialism; but I do believe in societal pressures). You are a boy and are constantly reminded of it. A boy without a father, without brothers; and when you become a man, you will never have sons of your own or even nephews. You're a single drop of masculinity in a ocean of mothers, sisters, wives, daughters, nieces; awash in femininity but forever separate from it. You are a man and that makes you king.

Before you're out of swaddling, you're placed on a pedestal. Elevated, in some regards. Afforded the greatest privileges available to your people. But they're not quite your people. However thinly it is presented, there's always going to be a degree of separation from everyone you know and care about. Your otherness is constantly reinforced, celebrated even. You're going to be a king. And you don't get a choice in the matter. You must stand alone, forever.

There are other men in the world, but they are not Gerudo. There are Gerudo, but none of them are men. The only people who could understand your struggle exist only as imperious statues and aspirational legends. They are Gerudo men, just like you, but they're not people anymore. They are kings, conquerors, shapers of history, children of destiny, great men. You are a man and that means you are destined for greatness.

Try not to crack under the pressure.

[chadwickginther]

Worldshapers Volume V Kickstarter! New Story!

I will have a new short story in Edward Willet’s Shapers of Worlds V anthology. That is, I will have a new short story if the project funds on Kickstarter… Editor Edward Willett from the Shapers of Worlds Volume V Kickstarter page: I’m raising funds to publish an anthology of short stories by some of the authors, including many major award-winners and international bestsellers, who were guests…

[0v3rcast]

Gnaw (2)

(Warnings: same as the previous chapter, found here.)

One of the largest issues with going from a simulated Teyvat to an actualized Teyvat is the sheer size.

The bridge outside of Mondstadt, which takes the Traveler like fifteen seconds to cross in a sprint? That's a good two minutes of walking at the least.

The rest of Mondstadt is massive, too, of course, but it's absolutely gorgeous. Perfect grass, clear rivers and ponds, rather imposing cliffs...

Maybe the people are a little unfriendly, but hey! The land itself makes up for your now-in-the-negatives social life.

Besides, this much air and sunlight are probably a good thing. You aren't too hot, there isn't like half of a forest worth of pollen up your nose, the breeze is really nice, and nobody's come to try and maul you!

As far as sightseeing tours go, this ain't the best. But it'll do.

Plus, you're pretty sure that the theoretical tour guide probably wouldn't let you pull up all the dandelions you wanted and blow on them to make their seeds go everywhere.

There's a faint gnaw in the pit of your stomach. You've eaten some berries, a carrot you found in a crate, and another Sunsettia, but you just can't shake the feeling.

The best way your mind can think to describe it is that your teeth are dissatisfied. You didn't do enough with this meal. It just sorta happened.

Perhaps you're going insane.

(On a distant cliff, the wind brings your breathing to an Archon, who sets down his lyre and raises a bow.)

There is a faint whistle on the air, one you swear you've heard before. Then it hits you - the sound of an arrow!

By some instinct, you hurl yourself aside, slamming into the grass and dirt.

A brilliant arrow is lodged into the ground at an angle that would have firmly made itself at home in the back of your skull. Had you not just launched yourself aside, you would be dead.

And then you hear another whistle.

You scramble up onto your feet and take off in a dead sprint. Anemo-powered arrows narrowly miss you four times as you zig-zag and duck behind stones or trees.

...you think you know who this is, or at least have a damn good idea.

Venti. Barbatos. Tone-deaf bard. Alcoholic lyre dude. That one.

You curse him out under your breath. The arrows seem to be coming faster all of a sudden.

The next arrow doesn't come down with a whistle. It comes down with a scream. The Anemo-charged arrow, cloaked in a blade of wind, pierces your back and launches you through the woodlands with enough force to demolish trees like matchsticks.

You skid to a stop, a fine path of devastation and upturned soil behind you, and your head lolls up on a shattered neck to stare blankly into the sky as you slip away into darkness.

(Dendro hisses at the other elements, their vast roots curling in anger. "We should have kept them out until this was solved!"

The others say nothing. Talking will do little to protect you, and those who raise their hands against you must be punished.)

Barbatos has a nightmare that night, after killing the one who stole the face of the World-Shaper.

He has been torn from his false face, cast into the heart of a vast hurricane, the wind itself screaming in hatred and rage, every whisper now purely poisonous. Every failure mocked, every mistake repeatedly shoved into his face, and every sin accounted for.

The wind wails, slipstreams like claws raking across his elemental flesh, battering him as he's tossed from gust of wind to gust of wind.

(He is unaware that to any observer, it would look like he was a rather hated captive ball in the world's most esoteric pinball machine.)

A voice tears itself from the monstrous storm around him, echoing in the bone-shuddering blasts of thunder.

Vile little wisp! You would dare to raise a hand against the divine most holy, our maker?!

He doesn't understand, and any chance he'd have to think or speak is repeatedly knocked from his head as he crashes into walls of wind firm enough to be stone.

Immense pressure crushes down around him, stalling him in place as if grasped in the enormous hand of a titan, and he cries out at it squeezes.

He looks up as he tries in vain to wriggle and flee, and he sees. Every part of him freezes in horror.

I am Anemo. The embodiment of sky, of breath. I am the Taker of Voices.

He is brought closer to the core of light at the center of the apocalyptic current.

I had such hope for you. A God of Freedom, one who would see the oppressed liberated from their miseries! One who would cast the sadness and hatred from his people to the winds, where they would be forgotten!

One who would spread the laughter of the First Breath to all corners of this world.

One who would be their protector, hearing misfortune on the winds and striking down those who would spell disaster for us all with the wrath of a great storm.

But you have failed. You have taken up arms against the one you were made to cherish with hatred in your heart.

You have forgotten your own freedom. The freedom to think for yourself, to act without orders. To go against what is known down a new path.

He cries out as some kind of tether is cut from his body, ripped away into the vortex.

You are my Archon no more. I shall find one more suitable to the task.

Perhaps in time, the Maker will find you pitiable enough to reinstate you as my envoy to Teyvat.

Enjoy your freedom, Venti of Mondstadt.

He plummets, the wind abandoning him entirely. The ground opens, a ravenous maw, stones and bedrock ground down like sharp fangs, and he falls into a lightless darkness.

He wakes, screaming and sobbing in equal measure.

He cannot feel the wind. He cannot hear it.

At his side, the light of the false Vision gutters out, dimming until not even a spark of Anemo remains within.

(Within a frozen palace, the light of the Anemo Gnosis dulls, waiting for a host to be chosen anew.)

consciousness returns to you in bits and pieces, your entire body an immense ache. Your joints are so sore you can barely move them without feeling the urge to weep.

Your nose is filled with the scent of the ocean. You can hear waves, and ever so faintly, the calls of birds. You feel safer here, somehow, as though this place is devoid of other intelligent beings.

Your eyes close again, body exhausted and unable to resist the siren call of unconsciousness in a space without threats.

On your back is a new scar, a spiral of gold starting between your shoulderblades and reaching out towards your ribs.

(Gnaw Taglist:

@the-dumber-scaramouche @iruiji @itz-luna @itsredactedlove @thatdeadaquarius @ssak-i @imyme20 @crierofirony

Thank you all very much for your interest.)

[cuubism]

Loooove the last post. Just imagining Dream doing an anti-magic STD laser for Hob's fun bits, only for five years later on an eclipse day and Hob to give Dream the gentlest of kisses only for his lover to explode into an eldritch horror because there was apparently dorment magic moon herpes that managed to escape notice and targets shapeshifters and only shapeshifters so Hob is just so confused as Dream is just over there becoming the physical embodiment of unknowable knowledge and everyone in The New Inn have passed out and Hob is just like Ah for fucks sake, not again before Dream pulls him into the Dreaming for a very fun impromptu weekend of monsterfucking since a certian Shaper of Forms can't hold down a consistant one. Finally Dream can isolate and eject the viral magic. It gets thrown into a black hole and now Hob is behind on grading but he knows that dating Dream comes with a whole lot of excitement, and he wouldn't change it for the world...though he does now go to a very awkward annual physical with an exhausted Johanna not-paid-enough-for-this-bullshit Constantine now to make sure that nothing else he's managed to pick up over his long life rears its ugly head.

LMAO I love Hob just being a time bomb of magical STDs, every time they have sex Dream is just taking his fucking life into his hands 😂 after the latest incident Dream is just like "my husband, you are a slut" and Hob's just like #no ragrets if you wanted to be exclusive you had 600 years to make it known, Dream. Hob may not have regrets but Dream does.

When Desire found out about it all they laughed until they fell apart into sweetheart candies, then went to find Hob just to shake his hand. "Safe sex is important Hobert, but if you wanted to get another STD there's one that's REALLY funny--" I'm imagining that supernatural STDs don't kill you they just do really weird things to you, like give you cat ears for a while, or make you float five inches off the ground. Or turn you green of course. The creation of many supernatural STDs was actually just PVP violence between jilted ex-lovers; they couldn't key each other's cars so instead they were like "virus be upon ye!" forgetting that viruses get spread to other people too. Oh well. A bunch of the other ones were a collab project between Desire and Despair. At least one was made by some anti-sex crazy guy that just really wanted to get his point across. The Kellogg of the supernatural community if you will.

Later on Hob's like "should I be a good person and do safe sex advocacy among the magical-but-not-supernatural community?" but then he tries and it turns out literally every other magical or immortal human in the whole world already knew about this except Hob. They're like "you just starting sleeping with people without asking?" he's like "yeah? you guys became unkillable and DIDN'T use it for crazy sexcapades?"

I think it's simply inevitable that Johanna misses one, and Hob and Dream have another 'incident'...